Cindy, sunny outcall company from De Pijp

'Tell me the room number and I'll race the lift up.' Cindy means it, too. She laughs as she says it, already halfway out of the taxi, blonde waves blowing across her face in the draught from the revolving door. Blue eyes. A slim, sporty 168 cm. Twenty-six years of cheerful, easygoing energy that seems to have started with a sunrise yoga class and never quite switched off. Her long hair is still a little wind-tossed from the drive, and her style is sunny poolside charm carried straight into the small hours. Nothing about her is stiff. Plans can drift from a quiet chat to a late room-service feast, and she drifts happily along with them.

Photography follows her everywhere. From the back seat she frames the city like a cinematographer: brake lights turning a whole street crimson, a canal lamp doubling itself in black water, a lone cyclist caught mid-crossing on a bridge. Ask her for the best shot from your window and she will find it in seconds. Sailing is her other escape, weekends on open water with salt drying in her hair and a rope burn she shows off like a medal. She owns a thousand photographs of sunsets from the deck and still wants more. Talk boats and she glows; Michelle lights up at exactly the same subject, if you ever want to compare sailing stories.

Her starting point is De Pijp, a few streets from the Albert Cuyp, so a ride to Oud-Zuid or the museum quarter is over almost before her playlist gets going, and the centre is barely further. Conversation happens in English, bright and full of good questions about where you have been and where you are headed next. By the time her knuckles meet your door she has already decided the evening is going to be fun, and she is very rarely wrong about that.